


tell me what you really mean

by nikkiRA



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiRA/pseuds/nikkiRA
Summary: “When we were young, you never wanted to leave my side,” he says, speaking the words into the air, letting the very earth around him bear witness. He cannot bring himself to look at Felix, so he stares up and ahead of him, focusing on one specific star and keeping it always in his sights. “I wonder if I could ask you, right now, to once again make that promise to me. To stay by my side.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 25
Kudos: 171
Collections: 2019 Dimilix Holiday Exchange





	tell me what you really mean

**Author's Note:**

> a dimilix exchange fic for Traci!! I hope you like it <3 happy holidays!!

The air is just starting to get uncomfortably colder, as they march back from Enbarr, before Dimitri finally breaks. He hadn’t even known he was building up to it, but one moment, he and Felix are taking first watch, sitting in surprisingly comfortable silence, and the next he says, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Go ahead,” Felix says. “You don’t need permission.”

Dimitri does not talk. He has too many sentence beginnings in his head. Too many different things to say. Too many words, and none of them good enough. 

But Felix, surprisingly, does not push. He does not say any snide comments. He simply continues to stare out through the trees and waits. This helps Dimitri settle, even just a bit, this tiny indication that maybe Felix is going to actually listen. 

“It is about the future,” he says. Felix’s face remains blank. 

“Bit of a broad topic,” he says. Dimitri can’t tell if he’s making fun of him or not. 

“What will you do?” Dimitri says, slightly frantically. Felix gives him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye before looking back out again. “When we return to Fhirdiad.”

“I suppose I’ll have to take over the territory from my uncle,” he says neutrally. Dimitri can’t read anything from his voice. 

“And is that what you want to do?”

This seems to catch Felix off guard; he leans back slightly and turns to look at Dimitri. “I don’t think anything we do is a matter of want,” he says finally. 

“But if you could -- if you could. Do what you --”

“Dimitri,” Felix says, sounding pissed. “Stop fucking around. Say what you want to say.”

“I’m giving you the option -- well, no, not  _ option.”  _ He feels like he’s never strung together a coherent sentence before. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “Do you want to abandon your territory?” He asks flat out. 

He hadn’t been completely sure how Felix would react to that, but he hadn’t been expecting  _ laughter.  _ “That was unexpected. Are you asking me to?”

“No. Not at all. I just needed to be sure. That you would stay because you wanted to, and not because of some misplaced obligation.”

“I don’t believe in misplaced obligation.”

That, admittedly, is true. 

“I just had to know. I assure you it wasn’t me doubting you, but simply my own --”

“Stop,” Felix says in what is almost a snarl. “Take that mask off and speak to me like yourself.”

It’s so easy to forget, just how well Felix knows him. “I want to know you’re here with me. That it’s your choice, not your fathers.”

“My father does not make my decisions for me.”

“I stopped fucking around when you asked,” Dimitri says seriously. “I am asking you to tell me sincerely.”

Felix doesn’t answer for a few moments. Dimitri sits there nervously and waits, and eventually Felix says, softly, “I’m here with you.”

He feels relief wash over him, a physical weight off his shoulders, and he lifts. He hadn’t realized just how scared he’d been that Felix would want to leave, and the knowledge is overwhelming, that despite everything, through it all, Felix chooses him. Felix will be there. 

“In that case, I have one more question for you.”

“Now you’re pushing it,” Felix says, and this time Dimitri can hear the teasing in his voice. It is light and hard to detect, but Dimitri knows Felix’s tone well enough. 

“When we were younger, there was a time when we all finally came to understand what it meant that Ingrid was engaged to Glenn.”

“Is this the question?” Felix asks dryly. 

“Ingrid, if you’ll recall, was thrilled with the idea.” Felix rolls his eyes; Ingrid had declared herself Duchess, after that, and had taken great pleasure in bossing them around, even though as  _ the literal prince  _ Dimitri far outranked her. 

“Sylvain decided he wanted to marry the cook’s daughter,” Felix says, with the kind of reluctant fondness he always used when he talked about Sylvain. 

“Yes,” Dimitri says, grateful that Felix has latched so neatly onto the point. “My question is -- do you remember who you said you wanted to marry?”

It is too dark to see if Felix is blushing, unfortunately. Dimitri waits patiently for his answer. 

Finally, he hears, “Yes.” Simple. Concise. Felix is giving nothing away. 

He clears his throat. Despite the biting chill of the air, he feels like he is overheating. “I know that neither of us are the people we once were. And there is so much that has happened between then and now, but --”

“Are you  _ proposing  _ to me?” Felix is looking at him like he has two heads, and Dimitri can’t blame him. 

“No!” He says quickly. Maybe too quickly. “No, no. Definitely not.” And then he felt bad, about brushing that off the table when -- well, it certainly wasn’t something to even think about in the near future, but Dimitri didn’t want to give the impression that it was  _ completely _ off the table, not if it was something that Felix could one day maybe, possibly stop to consider. “I am not saying I wouldn’t want to! I would, well, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t --”

He is (mercifully) stopped by Felix, who is laughing softly beside him. “You are an absolute mess,” he says. Dimitri drops his head into his hands and laughs. 

“Perhaps I should have practiced in the mirror,” he says. Felix snorts. 

“Tell me whatever the hell it is you’re trying to say.”

He takes a breath and then lifts his head, looking at Felix’s profile, lit up by the fire, a crown of stars around his head. Dimitri could see his breath puff out, visible in the air. The bruise that covers his eye and cheekbone is barely visible; a minor injury, not worth using up their healers power. His hair is pulled up higher on his head than usual, and wisps have fallen out at the back, tumbling down his shoulders, sticking out around his ears. Dimitri longs to let it loose, to put it up properly, the way he knows Felix likes. Somedays Felix's smile makes him feel brave enough to almost try. 

He’d heard, Dimitri had heard. Standing in front of Edelgard, trying to save her. Trying to do right by himself, not the ghosts that lived inside of him. When she had thrown that dagger at him, pierced his shoulder, he had heard Felix, heard the cry wrenched from his throat. The broken way he’d shouted  _ no.  _ And he’d seen the brief moment of unguarded relief when Dimitri had turned around and Felix had seen the dagger embedded, painfully but harmlessly, in his shoulder. 

“When we were young, you never wanted to leave my side,” he says, speaking the words into the air, letting the very earth around him bear witness. He cannot bring himself to look at Felix, so he stares up and ahead of him, focusing on one specific star and keeping it always in his sights. “I wonder if I could ask you, right now, to once again make that promise to me. To stay by my side.”

Felix speaks carefully, like he is taking extra time in choosing his words. “Fraldarius has always been right hand to the king.”

“That’s not what I mean. You know that.”

“Then ask me. Tell me what you really mean.”

“I am asking you to stay.”

“I have already told you I would.”

“Not just as the Shield of Faerghus.”

“Then  _ ask me,”  _ Felix says, and Dimitri can hear the rising frustration in his voice. “Tell me what you mean. You were so preoccupied with  _ want  _ earlier. Tell me what you  _ want,  _ Dimitri.”

“I want whatever you will give me.”

“That’s a cowards answer,” Felix says, voice venomous, and Dimitri realizes for the first time that maybe Felix is just as lost and scared as he is. “Tell me what you want.” Dimitri hears the way his voice wavers, in such a small way that most wouldn’t hear. He had thought Felix just wanted to make him say it, but it occurs to him then that Felix is  _ asking.  _ Felix is asking because he doesn’t know. 

“Every part of you,” he says. His voice breaks halfway through, and he clears his throat in embarrassment. “I want you by my side always, not as Duke, not as the Shield, but as my -- as my equal. As my friend.”

“Friend,” Felix says carefully. 

“As my  _ everything, _ ” Dimitri says. “What more would you like me to say? Is there any part of it that you don’t know?”

“Don’t presume what I might know," Felix says angrily.

Dimitri laughs in slight bewilderment. “You are truly unbelievable. How have you turned a love confession into a fight?”

“It’s the world’s shittiest love confession, it’s not  _ hard.” _

They fall silent. Dimitri listens idly to the sounds of the night around him. And then, abruptly, they both begin to laugh. 

“So it is a proposal,” Felix says. Dimitri chuckles. 

“It is not a proposal.”

“It sure sounded like one.”

“Have you heard many proposals?”

Felix looks at him, and Dimitri forces himself to meet his eye. “Did you really think I would leave?” Felix asks. 

“I hoped you wouldn’t.”

Felix looks away. “I suppose to everyone else, the way I acted towards you made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with you. But that was never…” He lets out a frustrated noise, unhappy with the limitations of words, unused to it. Dimitri takes pity on him. 

“I know you didn’t do it because you hated me.”

“That does not excuse it,” Felix says. He doesn’t sound ashamed, exactly. More resigned. 

“No,” Dimitri says slowly, because he will not lie and say that Felix’s actions had not hurt him over the years. “But I understand.”

Felix scuffs his boot on the ground. He looks like he wants to say something, so Dimitri waits. 

“When I heard that you were dead,” Felix finally says. “When I thought that she had killed you, I decided I was going to abandon my title. I was going to finish this war, and then I was going to leave. And then you showed up, and you were half-dead, but you were  _ alive.  _ You will never know --” he cuts off and takes a breath. “You will never know what it was like to realize you were alive. For a moment I didn’t even care about what you had turned into. I only cared that you were  _ there.”  _ Dimitri doesn’t respond; he is too afraid that it will burst this fragile bubble Felix has built around them. “And as soon as I saw you I knew that I would take on the title of Duke, and I would take my father’s place one day, and I would serve you. Not because you are king, but because you are you. I don’t care about precedent, I don’t care about generations of Fraldarius’ standing on the right side of the king. I am here because it’s you.” He looks at Dimitri again, and his eyes are burning bright. “And I will stay in whatever capacity you want, and I will stay because I want to.”

Dimitri’s mouth is suddenly very dry. “And what capacity would you prefer?”

Felix’s mouth quirks up. “Do you really need me to spell it out?”

“I just want to know that I am not… reading too much into this. Or that I am not blinded by my own desires.”

Felix does not speak. Instead he turns his face away, back up to the stars, and he reaches out a gloved hand, grabbing hold of Dimitri’s. It is hard to fully entwine their fingers due to the gloves, but Dimitri grips back as tightly as he can. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t crouch here anymore,” a voice calls out from the darkness. Felix springs away from him and Dimitri reacts just as quickly, on his feet with his lance out and peering into the night. 

“Put your weapons down, it’s just us,” a tired voice says, and he places it as Ingrid’s before she steps closer to the fire and into the light. Trailing behind her is Sylvain, and Dimitri doesn’t need to ask if they heard, because the look on Sylvain’s face is enough. 

“How long were you there,” Felix bites out. Dimitri notices that he has not put down his weapon. 

Sylvain grins. “Your watch has been over for almost ten minutes,” he says breezily. Dimitri both admires and pities him for his complete disregard for the way Felix is looking at him. 

“I might have expected this from you,” Dimitri tells Sylvain, who shrugs as if to agree. “But Ingrid?”

Ingrid flushes red, and Dimitri knows that she has probably spent the last ten minutes warring with herself. “I don’t want to hear that! Would you really have wanted us to interrupt? So you two could go back to not talking about it and staring at each other all the time?”

He feels his face burn as he realizes she’s right. All three of them are standing there with faces red from embarrassment and shame; Sylvain, on the other hand, has his arms stretched behind him and is still grinning like a shark. 

“I don’t  _ stare at him  _ \--” Felix tries to say, but Sylvain, a very brave, very stupid man, crosses over and slings an arm around his neck. Felix looks at Dimitri, who gives him a look that he hopes says, quite plainly,  _ no, you cannot stab him.  _

“I think we should wait and have a summer wedding,” Sylvain says. Dimitri reaches out and pulls Felix away before he can do something he regrets. 

“I am going to bed,” Felix says, and Sylvain laughs. 

“I bet.”

“You’re the worst, you know,” Ingrid says, smacking him on the back of the head and sitting down beside him. “I am very sorry, Your Majesty,” she says to Dimitri, not quite looking him in the eye. 

“Oh, uh.” Dimitri coughs. “Maybe it would be best if we simply forget about it.” He means Ingrid eavesdropping, of course, since no force on earth will be enough to get Sylvain to forget about this. 

“On the bright side, Felix might actually like if you give him a dagger,” Sylvain says. 

“I don’t think it wise to arm him any more than necessary right now, do you?” 

Sylvain laughs, and despite everything, Dimitri’s heart in his chest feels light. 

He assumes Felix has returned to his tent, but when Dimitri gets to his own Felix is standing outside, arms crossed across his chest and glaring at various parts of the forest. Dimitri touches him lightly on the arm. 

“I do not give you permission to kill Sylvain,” he says. 

“I don’t need permission,” Felix says darkly. Dimitri chuckles, and then -- perhaps inspired by Sylvain’s complete lack of self-preservation -- he lifts a hand and tucks a stray piece of hair behind Felix’s ear. 

“We should both get some sleep,” he says, aware that he will very likely not sleep a wink tonight. “We can talk more when we return to Fhirdiad. Privately,” he adds, and something flutters in his chest at the sight of Felix’s small smile. 

“Privately,” he says, shooting one more glare in Sylvain’s direction. “I’ll know if you don’t sleep,” he says, turning his glare on Dimitri. “So will Dedue.” At Dimitri’s nod he says, “All right. Good night, then.”

“Good night, Felix,” he says softly. 

Felix turns to leave, stops, and then spins back. He steps closer to Dimitri and grabs him by the cloak, pulling him down as he lifts up onto his toes to kiss him quickly. 

And then he hurries away, leaving Dimitri to crawl into his tent beside Dedue. He lies down and stares up at the ceiling, bringing his fingers up to trace over his lips. 

He does sleep that night, and when he wakes up the next morning, he can’t quite stop himself from smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> fe twitter @felixfraldaddy  
> personal twitter @aravenlikea


End file.
